the Hero & the Potions Master
by XxEJMxX
Summary: Harry needs to skip across the pond to gather research for his career. He settles in Manhattan for the time being, and the universe spits a very interesting genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist right at Harry's feet. Will Harry take Tony Stark's gilded mask for granted and disappear, or will he delve deeper to find a man very similar to himself?
1. Chapter 1

_ "I headed West I was a man on the move, London had lied to me, I needed the truth. Oh I needed somebody, I needed someone I could trust." _

He had heard the same song in his mind, stuck on repeat, for the last six or so hours. Nothing else quite filled the silence of the other sleeping passengers on the plane. Nothing else quite reminded him of home, the home he had to leave. He loved England. He missed England already. Sure he had some pretty awful memories of the place. He was abused there, in his childhood home, his parents were murdered there, he had to fight and kill there, and many other exploits that shouldn't belong to a mere child.

But he was now an adult, and as much as he loved the moors and the rainy days that matched his mood and the crammed streets of London, he had to move on. His research carried him to other places, namely the United States. His magic was pulling him across the pond, along with the urge to find new surroundings, new friends, and new ingredients for the potions he was currently developing.

Snape would have laughed in his face, if he would have known the great Harry Potter's choice of careers. But in all actuality Snape was the reason he decided to be a potions master in the first place. He had looked up to the man after snapping into reality. He never was a brat, per say, but there was quite a lot of growing up that came with killing a man and delving into his sexuality and actually getting over petty differences. He respected Snape, as a soldier, as a man, and most certainly as a potions master.

The plane fumbled in the air a little, settling around the wind in a bit of turbulence. He had less than an hour on the plane until he touched ground in one the international Mecca's of the world. New York was painted to be a cultured and modern city, full of town homes and high-rises and nice businesses and varying races. He knew it held it's circle of dark secrets, being infiltrated with its share of vampires and wolves and wizards. He planned on heading further West after a month, which was probably how long it would take him to clear customs in the wizarding world. Even though they knew he _probably _meant no harm, they needed to make sure he wasn't a homicidal foreign maniac before letting him traipse around the United States.

The clouds were beginning dissipate as the plane neared land. Harry was tempted to pick up Snape's journal again, he had poured over it numerous times for more hints and clues, but he was largely on his own. He was trying to develop a new and improved wolfsbane potion, one that would be less painful for the weres, and one that would hurt their wolf half less. He was also in the process of trying to find a suitable formula to make a "sunscreen" of sorts for vampires. America was sure to offer some ingredients that couldn't be found elsewhere. After his research here was concluded he would head South. Into Colombia and Chile and Peru and eventually deep inside the Amazon.

The plane violently hit the ground, jarring Harry as he held a little tighter to Snape's leather bound journal. He stared out the window at the sparkling city. There seemed to be cars still around, even though he was at the John F. Kennedy airport, seemingly thirty minutes or so out of the hustle and bustle of the actual New York City. He had decided to stay in the business district of Manhattan, being as one of the American equivalents to the Ministry of Magic was located in that area. This made it easier for checking in to be his first order of business in the morning.

Well later in the morning, he thought as he glanced at the watch which spit 2:57 A.M. at him mockingly. He had to get his baggage, a cab, and get checked in, which meant he wouldn't be in bed until at least 4:30. He sighed and waited for first class to be boarded off, clutching Snape's journal a little tighter than necessary.


	2. Chapter 2

The morning light broke through the windows far too early for Harry's liking. He was already cursing the day and cursing the honking and boisterous New Yorkers before he had even rolled over to check the time. According to the alarm clock it was currently 7:04 A.M. which meant, after the hassle of baggage claim and the hotel employees earlier this morning, he had gotten approximately three hours and twenty minutes worth of sleep. Harry grumbled and pulled himself beneath the warmth of the duvet, wishing to curl further into a cocoon. He stretched lightly and started his morning routine, spelling the curtains closed with a wave of his hand. It simply wouldn't do to have some passerby ogling him through the hotel window.

He trudged to the bathroom, starting the shower before brushing his teeth in order to amass nice amount of steam in the large bathroom. He loved ritzy hotel bathrooms. They always had the biggest walk-in showers and the absolute best bath tubs. He wasn't used to being flashy with his money, but he did enjoy being a bit more indulgent than necessary at times. It wasn't on trivial things such as nice cars or adorned watches or designer brands, it was things he had missed during his childhood. Like warm, comfortable, and nice fitting clothes, decadent and tasteful meals, and comfortable beds and warm showers.

He stepped into the shower, and felt a little bit better about the morning he had already come to hate. He never was a morning person. Not when he had to wake up at 4 A.M. to make the Durseley's breakfast, not when he had to be to classes on time, and especially not when he went cross-country hunting for horcruxes. He was nocturnal and he loved to sleep late into the morning, which he rarely got to do. Ingredient harvesting was occasionally complex, since the more delicate potions ingredients he worked with usually required certain time specifications in order to be potent. Whenever he was doing his final stage of potions internship, he had to construct a very, very powerful healing draught. This particular draught not only had difficult and labor intensive brewing instructions, but its core ingredient was also a flower which only bloomed during a period about an hour long, during autumn, on a full-harvest-moon, at night.

He kept a hectic sleeping schedule, but maybe while in America he could regulate it and be a little touristy. He viewed this expedition as a possibly permanent vacation from Britain. He realized that wizards aged slower and he was doubtful he would die anytime soon, he had clawed and fought to survive this far into his life, his mid-twenties had barely kicked off. He wanted to slow down and take more time to observe his surroundings and make memories, while spending less time working and fighting with ghosts from the past.

This little bit of normalcy and thirst for life he had encountered was normal for his age. He wanted to stabilize his career and do something to put his name in history books, besides kill a dark lord and head a war. This "growing up" of sorts included finding someone to spend the rest of his life with. If such a person even existed. It would be rare enough to find someone willing to accept his amount of baggage, let alone someone to possibly share his insane lifestyle. He was a wizard after all...an emotionally scarred wizard...an emotionally scarred, occasionally homicidal wizard...an emotionally scarred, occasionally homicidal wizard with a consuming career...an emotionally scarred, occasionally homicidal wizard with a consuming career and very complex mental issues and large social anxieties and numerous skeletons in his closet and he wasn't even that attractive, to be honest.

But if he could not find a mate, which he doubted he would, he would be more than fine with making his own memories and legacy, without someone looking to exploit him for fame, money, power, or a title.

* * *

He couldn't wait to get out of this building. It seemed, even though he was covering his scar, everyone in the reception area already knew exactly who he was and wanted to bombard him with questions. It made his stomach churn. Would they still look up to him if they knew his past? Who he had to kill to accomplish his goal? What the war was really like?

"Potter, Harry" called the bored looking receptionist from, what he assumed was, the Jurassic period. He quickly stood, glad to be away from the scrutiny of large crowds and gawking people.

"Mister Potter" said the American ambassador, rising from her chair to give a polite half-bow,

"It is an honor, please sit. Can I get you tea or coffee?" He politely declined even though he would have killed for coffee at this hour of the morning.

"Well then, let's get to it. Your visa is processing clearance, it should be cleared by the end of the week; however, we need you to stay in the New York area for a few weeks after that, standard protocol I assure you. Then you are free to go wherever you wish, without limit by our governments." Harry was shocked for a moment, he knew that their government would often put travel limits on foreign wizards and witches, in fact they were known for it.

"Well thank you so much ma'am. I really appreciate this, more than you know." He stood to shake her hand, as he assumed the meeting was over.

"If you would like, there are several very helpful travel brochures my assistant can give you...I assume you're here on vacation?" she said warmly, before stuttering,

"You don't have too...My apologies for being too personal" Harry gave a throaty chuckle before amending,

"Oh no, you're quite right. I want to be a tourist for a while," she smiled tightly and he could tell she was still hung up on the fact she got a little nosey.

"Well, here's my card Mister Potter. We have your contact information, so expect to hear from us in a few days regarding your visa. I hope you have a wonderful time in the United States," she smiled and extended her card. He bowed a little to her, took the card in his hand, and quickly exited the office.

He made sure to stop by her assistant's desk, even though he really didn't need to brochures, before leaving the building to find coffee.

* * *

A/N: thanks to all of you for your encouraging reviews :) I'm glad you like it so much, and I'm already working on the next chapter, where Tony comes in ;)  
Thanks to: WereBunny87, Fae0306, discussionsonpaper, xDarklightx, 917brat, and ChibiAyane for reviewing!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you all again for your reviews! It means so much to me that you all like this idea!  
Let me respond to one reviewer in particular:

Dear Fast Frank (my lovely anonymous reviewer),

Thank you for your constructive criticism. First of all, I do not understand what you mean by saying there was a flashback to London? There wasn't a flashback to London that I am aware of. I certainly didn't intend for there to be a flashback when I scribed the second chapter. If you were talking about the discussing of potions ingredients, this bit of information relayed back into discussing his sleep schedule.  
As far as I'm concerned, we (in the real world) flashback any moment of any day. Memories can be triggered by certain words or songs or anything really, and most of the time, they are relevant to what is occurring in the present. Though your opinion may be different, I did wish for Harry to have free will to reminisce however he wishes. The war haunts him frequently, in this fiction, if you cannot tell.  
Also, I am aware that ambassadors do not usually handle such things personally; however, he is Harry Potter. As much as he doesn't want the fame, he has it. He gets special treatment, even if he would prefer to be normal. Which is why he gets to meet with the ambassador in her office. She was probably chomping at the bit to get a glimpse of _the _Harry Potter anyways.  
Furthermore, upon my phrasing of "business district" and "boarded off," this is creative writing, this is fiction, and if it hampers your reading experience that much, do not read my story. There are plenty of other fictions out there that are well written and better developed than mine.  
I am sorry that my writing has upset you this much, and I would change it; however, I happen to like it how it is. I am free to use whatever phrases I wish, whether or not you have heard of the phrase before. I am from the South and I know quite a bit of colorful phrases I am sure you have never heard of or used before. Diction is, after all, up to the writer and not the reader, to the reader's occasional dismay.  
But again, thank you very much for your concerned review, happy reading!

Yours truly,  
Elizabeth

* * *

He was hard pressed to find a good cafe these days. It seemed everywhere he went, he was surrounded by people wanting his autograph, and children wanting photos or to ask questions. It's not that he minded that much really, it even inflated his ego a little. But some days, he didn't want to be Tony Stark anymore. Because Tony Stark was just as easily recognized universally as Iron Man was. Occasionally, he wanted to be normal, to be a face in the crowd.

He was a charismatic people lover, but sometimes he wanted to be invisible and easily forgettable. He tried his second cafe for the morning, sighing as he noticed that almost no one was in here save for a shorter man, ordering a coffee from the barista. He took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack next to the door, straightening his Metallica t-shirt before heading to stand in line behind the slighter man.

He liked this cafe. It was painted in muted plums with grey and mustard accents, and the artwork was modern with hints of art deco. He happened to like art deco. Stark Tower should have been fashioned similarly the Chrysler Building. He sighed and shoved his hands in his jean pockets, wondering why there weren't more people here. The cafe seemed nice enough, if not a little tucked back into a quiet corner. But isn't that what all of these hip teenagers wanted these days? Underground restaurants and un-discovered bands and forgotten locales?

The slighter man in front of him turned around with his coffee, heading to a back table near a window to settle with a book. Tony's breath hitched a bit upon receiving a millisecond of eye contact. He usually didn't observe people superficially, he was more interested in getting into people's brains and observing behavior. The only figures he observed in a superficial sense were women, with long legs and large breasts and tiny waists.

But this man, barely reaching 5'6", wore a mop of charcoal hair paired with the most intriguing green eyes. They weren't emerald green really, but they were a darker shade of green with these strokes of sea-glass green around his pupils. The most intriguing thing to Tony though, was that this man looked right through him. Even though the mousy, brunette barista was staring at him like a love-lorn cherub, this man looked straight past him.

Tony didn't know whether to be happy or a bit aggravated. The one person he would have loved to bombard him with requests was pretending he didn't exist. He was almost frustrated as he ordered his coffee, black, and headed to sit across from the man.

He didn't even look up from his novel, which Tony had observed was Candide by Voltaire. Tony was preparing to clear his throat when the man asked,

"May I help you?" in a throaty, almost unused voice, still without looking up. Must've been a good chapter.

"Well, not particularly. I was just wondering, if you would tell me what your name is?" Tony found himself suddenly nervous, knocked a bit off course than he normally was because of the man's demeanor.

"Why does it matter?" the man responded, finally looking up from his book and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Tony realized, from the lilt of his voice, that he was British. His appearance wasn't very masculine, but Tony didn't really mind. He had a nicely sloped nose and shapely lips and his large almond eyes looked almost too large for his face beneath the magnification of the glasses.

"Excuse me?" Tony responded, a bit flabbergasted. This man radiated some sort of pull that he couldn't explain. He was surrounded by this sort of energy that was entrancing and comforting, if not a bit frightening. Tony seemed to know he had the capability to be a lot more personable than he was letting on, and that he was deeply intelligent if not a bit socially awkward.

"Well, we are but two men, who met by chance, in a city of about 9 million people. We will most likely not meet again, so why bother to know each other's names?" The man seemed to be smirking, his eyes warm and sparkling. Tony knew he was playing with him, amused by the man's reactions. He had been paying attention to him even if he had appeared to be reading. Curious.

"Anthony Stark" Tony said, extending his hand. The man stared at it for a moment before smiling and grabbing it in a firm handshake.

"Harry Potter" The name suited him. It was playful and it rolled off the tongue. Tony was a bit shell-shocked however,

"You don't know who I am?" he asked, a bit puzzled that there was no sign of reaction from the slighter man upon hearing his name,

"No?" Harry gave him a quizzical glance, "I'm assuming you know who I am?" Harry asked surreptitiously, seeming almost nervous to know the answer. Tony shook his head no and slowly let go of Harry's hand. It seemed two egos had met in an impasse, and neither knew the other's fame. Tony smiled, he saw this shaping up to be a wonderful friendship.

* * *

"Bruce! I have met the most agreeable fellow!" Tony screamed upon entering his labs at Stark Tower,

"Oh so you're into boys now?" Bruce called to him, his eyes not moving from the microscope. What was it with everyone not making eye contact to talk to him today? Tony dropped his jacket haphazardly onto a lab chair, moving towards where Bruce was.

"That is irrelevant, what really matters here is that he is apparently famous too, but we have agreed not to research each other until after our next meeting. What matters more than that is, we share common literary tastes and worldly tastes. He enjoys physics and Shakespeare and chemistry and Poe and cars and art and Wilde and it's simply amazing that, as he would say, amongst almost 9 million people within New York City we have crossed paths,"

"If I were a superstitious man, which I am, I would say it were the Fates," Bruce chuckled and finally looked up from his large microscope, putting his glasses back on and blinking to focus. Tony glanced at him as if he were a touch mad, which Bruce was, and continued to ramble.

"I met him at this coffee shop, which was deserted and why I love it already, and he was reading a book and he drank black coffee like me and he had this, like aura about him and he had the nicest eyes and-"

"Do you have a crush Tony? Because you sound like a young girl." Bruce chuckled, before turning to mark something down in his notebook. Tony just glared at him, opening his mouth for a smart retort, when the lab door slid open and Steve poked his head in.

"So we have a conference with Fury in a few minutes. Apparently a potentially dangerous man from Britain is currently on American soil with "seemingly nice intentions" and we just _have_ to have a meeting about how to handle his arrival and his surveillance while he's in the city," Steve rolled his eyes, grumbling about paranoid leaders and exiting the room almost as quickly as he had appeared. Bruce and Tony looked at each other for a moment, the silence growing between them as the gears in each man's head turned.

"Is this man British Tony?" Tony ran his hand through his hair and looked out the window-like walls to see Manhattan below him, before turning back to Bruce.

"I'm afraid so" He said in a quiet voice, before turning to exit the lab, eyes trained on the floor and hands in his pockets.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you all for your reviews! And I'm very sorry St. Valentine, but sadly, Nicholas Fury is a very far reaching man with his hand in very many political pies ;( so not very much suspense.  
Hope y'all like the chapter!

* * *

"Harry James Potter," Fury's booming voice penetrated the bored looks surrounding his meeting table.

Anthony Stark sat up just a little bit straighter. He couldn't believe what was happening. It was flying over his head faster than a SR-71 Blackbird. The whole depth of this situation was out of his immediate coping range and out of his momentary comprehension.

"British Wizard, believed to be about 30 years of age, if he were aging normally. He is possibly in mid-twenties in wizard years, which means he is in prime physical shape. He is five feet, five inches, has black hair and green eyes," Nick pulled a picture out of the file and threw it on the table for the heroes to pass around. Colonel continued, "but most importantly, he is a VIP war veteran."

"So wizards really exist?" asked Hawkeye incredulously. Tony was surprised he could be incredulous about anything after what he had seen and been through. Thor nodded,

"Wizards are prominent in Asgard. My brother Loki," some around the table darkened and tensed at the name, "is what you Midgardians would call a magician."

Black Widow tapped Hawkeye's hand in a consoling manner. Most of the team still had not forgotten what Loki had done to their city, even if it was almost a year ago now.

"Why do we need to know this?" Bruce said what Tony wanted to say, without all of the assholery he would have included.

"He is a potential threat, I'd go so far as to say a potential level 3 threat. We remember what happened the last time a war hardened wizard strolled into the country," Fury gave a pointed glance, and Bruce had the heart to look a little sheepish about his reaction to Loki's mention a few moments ago.

"How do we know he is a threat? Have we even contacted him?" asked Steve skeptically.

"Even if he does not look the part Captain, he has killed his fair share of men, even if it were in the name of the greater good. I would believe him capable of large destruction if he were triggered or pushed. His power levels are greater than most normal wizards, and a bit more unstable than most normal wizards. He is reaching the age where most of the really powerful wizards mate to gain stability in their magiks, according to my quite extensive research." Tony rolled his eyes. He had wanted to be the first to be an expert in Harry, but Fury had beat him to the punch. Bet he doesn't know how Harry takes his coffee…The silence was beginning to be unbearable, so he asked first question on the tip of his tongue.

"What part did he play in his war?" said Tony, in a lower voice. Thor, being more perceptive than one might think, looked at him in concern. Did he know this mortal magician maybe? Was that why the Man of Iron was acting so strangely?

"He was a soldier from birth. There was an insane wizard by the name of Tom Riddle that wanted to take over the wizard world of Britain. There were a lot of tumultuous politics involved, but long story short, there was a prophecy and a magical occurrence which bound them together, which forced them to fight to the death. Many were killed during this long war and eventually he had to step up and finish it. He is the type of person who morphs into a killing machine by threat, he is deadly under the pressure of war. This is why I believe he is capable of being a threat to not only the city, but to the entire United States."

Fury finished his speech and settled down momentarily into his chair at the head of the table. Tony was trying not to let his emotions wage war openly on his face. The Harry he had met only hours ago didn't seem to be a killer. He had a powerful aura about him, but some people just happen to possess that presence naturally. He seemed kind, gentle, careful, and playful. He held a bit of childish impishness to him that didn't seem to be touched by war or hardship. Tony knew not to be fooled by such superficial things, but he hadn't recognized any of the tell-tale signs of a veteran. Then again, he also wasn't looking for a warrior...

"So what do we do about it?" asked Natasha during yet another tense silence. Tony closed his eyes and massaged. How could he possibly explain this to Harry when they met morning after next at the coffee shop?

"We need to put him under surveillance. Due to his power level and honed instincts, we cannot use traditional methods. We may have to plant several of you, so you can "accidentally" bump into him in random parts of the city. In fact, we may need to bring in someone specialized in magic to help us..." Fury looked at each agent's face carefully, waiting for a reaction. Tony grasped the idea Fury was suggesting before the others at the conference table,

"You mean to bring a megalomanic God, who tried to genocide the entire human race, back to the city he invited a hostile alien race to invade? To babysit a wizard who may not even be dangerous?" Tony ground out, glaring at Colonel Fury. Understanding seemed to dawn on the others around the table simultaneously,

"You cannot be serious," Hawkeye said hysterically before standing up and slamming his hands on the table.

"You want to bring him back here after what he did?" he screamed. Nick just looked on calmly. Thor didn't say a word, moving his jaw as if he were participating in some sort of inner debate.

"Thor has been giving me updates of Loki's progress. He has been on earth for several months, in the same circumstances we met Thor under in New Mexico. He has been stripped of his powers and title, and forced to make a life for himself among humans. He has been gaining humility and guilt for what he has done. He has also been learning to sympathize with those he used to believe inferior, mending his moral code if you will."

"Where have you been keeping him?!" Hawkeye screamed once more, almost manic at this point. His breathing was labored and Tony had never seen the man so bent out of shape. Natasha stood up to rub his shoulders and stroke his hair, calming a caged beast.

"In Virginia. He's been working for a bakery. Thor informed me he was a skilled cook and I set up the job for him. He's been living in an apartment with a human roommate and taking the bus to work everyday. He even volunteers at a soup kitchen on the weekends." Hawkeye had calmed a little, but only marginally.

"So you're bringing him back to New York?" Steve whispered, cradling his head in his hands and sighing.

Fury nodded and stood from the table, throwing everyone a folder on Harry James Potter before striding confidently out of the room.  
That man was infuriating but, if nothing else, he was a walking file-folder of information and grand schemes.

* * *

Harry couldn't believe that such people existed, bumping into wizards randomly in hole-in-the-wall coffee shops. Even though they had made a promise not to research each other until after their next meeting, he couldn't help casting a quick point me spell to the nearest internet cafe. He sat down with a turkey and swiss sandwich and pulled up Google. Harry had very limited experience with technology, IPhones and laptops were a bit too much for him. His magic interfered with the frequencies, if he used them on a long term basis. If he needed to write or record something pen and ink on paper was better than anything.

The name Anthony Stark pulled up an alarming amount of information:  
The Iron Man.  
A billionaire.  
The head of Stark Industries.  
A lead in self-sustainable energy.  
The most eligible bachelor of 2012.  
An Orphan.  
A philanthropist.  
An Avenger.

He had done a lot more digging, staying in the cafe until closing time. He stood and threw away his trash. Looking at his wrist watch, he cursed the need he felt to procure a computer to do more digging on Anthony Edward Stark. He found a suitable electronics store and purchased one to finish his findings. This man was extremely interesting. There were many things that held his interest, literature, science, magic, potions. But Tony Stark was in a category of his own making.

Of course Harry knew he was entertaining from sitting with him and mutually sharing bits of their interests. He figured he was well educated, and despite his dress that day, wealthy. He had also picked up on hints of narcissism, cockiness, a bit of crudeness, and brashness. Harry could see now that he had misdiagnosed Anthony's "acting before thinking" attitude as being pigheaded (which the man most likely was anyways) and foolhardy, when actually it was a nice sized hero complex. Not as large as his, but Anthony definitely felt some sort of obligation to being a martyr and putting the people around him in front of himself. Or, actually, putting his "invincible" iron suit in front of civilians in danger.

They had so much in common. Being an orphan, fighting in wars, inheriting large sums of money, intelligence, hero complexes, a hidden wish for normalcy (which Harry just _assumed_ Tony possessed), similar interests, similar tastes, and the list could continue. Anthony had actually promised to take him to a nice Mediterranean place closer to the center of Manhattan after their next meeting, and then to a museum of art. Now he could understand why Anthony chose that particular restaurant. Stark Tower was simply down the street and around the corner from the eatery.

Harry made a split-second decision, closing the laptop lid and gliding to the bathroom to change. One sports coat, button up, and spritz of aftershave later, he was out the door of his hotel room and down the street hailing a cab.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry had always liked revolving doors. As a child, they were wondrous; he could, and would, run around in circles all day long. This was one of the few pleasures he remembered from his childhood, this particular joy came from being Petunia's shopping bag donkey at the mall. Harry straightened and forced himself to move instead of just staring at the ostentatious column of light, steel, and concrete.

Upon entering, he was met with an immaculate lobby, a receptionist taking calls and appointing people to their locations, and a large reception area, nearly 1/3 full. Harry had hacked into Jarvis' mainframe using magic, and even though Jarvis was a computer operated being, he still fell victim to compulsion spells. Harry wasn't going to snoop on Tony anymore than necessary, he wanted to hear all about the man from the man himself, he just liked knowing what sort of situation he was walking into. The bottom floor held bathrooms, elevators, and stairwells to the garage submersed below the building. There wasn't an actual security hub, because Tony could survey the entire building at a click of a button. However, there were a few uniformed men, that Harry suspected to be SHIELD agents. He had done tons of digging on SHIELD as well. He wasn't a skilled computer hacker, as much as he had connections. He got lucky with Stark's computer. Very lucky. He was only going to attempt it when the AI popped up. But Lucky should very well be his middle name at this point.

In his snooping, he had encountered the blueprint of the tower, which was what he was looking for in the first place. He liked being prepared, and part of that was knowing possible escape routes, if necessary. He had read that the first 20 floors of the 93-storey tower were offices, including Stark's own formal office. Harry felt like he already knew Tony, however, and knew that the man would probably prefer working from his own home. The next few floors were apartment floors, since the great entertainer, Anthony Stark, always had guests popping in. He had a pool floor (complete with sauna and spa services), a gym floor, a combat room, two conjoined floors that made a large (and beautiful) library, and a large gaming room. What piqued Harry's interest out of the "common floors," happened to be a "creative" floor, which he assumed meant pianos and musical instruments and art supplies and tranquil spaces would take the cake for that area.

The man honestly had more floors than he knew what to do with. According to his floor-plan, he kept about 25 middle floors open, just in case he needed something specific, and probably to keep a nice cushion between the normalities and the Avengers Initiative.

Following all of Stark's luxuries, the Avengers segment of his tower began. It started very subtly, with several unspecified floors that Harry assumed were laboratories or R&D floors due to their layout. Then there were five apartments labeled with each Avenger's name, including a "Green Giant Proof" floor, enforced with vibranium and 4-inch thick plexiglass windows. Above his team's quarters were some extra apartment floors for the likes of extra agents. To finish off the habitat area for the Avengers, there was a floor labeled "common room," which Harry tapped into the cameras to find was a large space resembling a living room and kitchen combined. Above that was a weapons floor, firing range included, and then above that a weapons research and development. There were about three floors taken by a meeting/intelligence area, which acted as a mini-SHIELD headquarters whenever necessary. There was an add-on floor above the intelligence areas that was a containment floor for any villains apprehended. From what Harry understood, the Avengers team lived here during most of the year. Whenever they weren't on missions or holidays or in their own homes, they lived here.

Right before Tony's apartment were two floors for Pepper Potts to use as she wished, most likely apartments, but they were labeled by her name. And above all this grand tower of money and power was a private elevator, activated only by Tony's hand print, retina scan, and passcode. Or, perchance, if you were Virginia Potts or deemed familial, you received a passcode of your own. This private elevator lead to about 5 floors worth of Tony's personal apartments. Tony's official laboratory was tied into his apartments, as well as his work room where the suits were stored and operated on. Included in Tony's apartments was a very acoustically designed floor, labeled "The Den of Rock." Tony certainly had a sense of humor and he labeled his personal floors more liberally than the rest of the building.

Harry's favorite part of Tony's personal quarters, even though the sun deck/landing pad extending from Tony's apartment was nice, was the observatory which took up two floors up and onto the roof. He had telescopes and star charts and Harry was very excited to see it.

The receptionist didn't even look at him as he strolled to the main desk, hands in his pockets, non-confrontational as always.

"Name and appointment?"

"James, and no appointment," the receptionist laughed a little and looked up to see that Harry was completely serious,

"I'm sorry but I legitimately thought you were joking. No one comes in here without an appointment." She deadpanned staring at him in what was supposed to be an intimidating manner.

"Well, you see, Mr. Stark and I are...close...friends and I am sure he could find a few moments in his busy schedule to speak with me," once again, the impeccably dressed woman laughed at Harry being completely serious, and he finally just rolled his eyes. He whispered an imperius charm, and the woman immediately picked up her phone.

"Mrs. Potts? Yes we have a visitor, says he's very important, wants to speak to Mr. Stark...does he have a name? Yes of course. James," the receptionist looked to him expectantly,

"Potter" he whispered,

"Potter. James Potter," she reiterated, she then listened, nodding her head, and hung up the large desk phone.

"Mrs. Potts, who is Mr. Stark's personal secretary, will consult with him on your arrival and she will then give me further instructions" Harry nodded, a bit more complacent now and he removed the spell. The receptionist looked a little lost for a moment, before going back to her work of answering phones. None of the other people in the reception area seemed to pay the encounter any attention. Harry took to watching the revolving door, people watching was a habit of his. He resisted the urge to pull out his pocket novel of the day, which happened to be The Little Prince. Most took the book for children's rubbish and anyone who said so to him would have to fight him. He wasn't a rowdy bloke, but he had a killer instinct that laid dormant within him, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

Suddenly the elevator doors opened and Harry was distracted from his revolving door watching. A posh, delicate, strawberry blonde woman in three inch heels slinked out of the elevator and headed towards him. She made eye contact and he wondered how she knew exactly who he was.

"Pepper Potts, at your service Mr. Potter." Mrs. Potts looked him up and down, and seemed to approve of his nice jeans, trainers, button up, and blazer.

"I was surprised, normally Tony gets many visitors in this fashion, but he rarely concedes to meeting them. You must be special," she smiled and extended her hand, firm grip Harry noted, to give him a handshake.

"Follow me and we will proceed to the biology laboratory, where he is. He very specifically wanted you to ride on the outside elevator, where you can see the breathtaking view of the city." Mrs. Potts smiled politely and offered her arm to Harry, which he readily took.

"So tell me Mr. Potter, how did you two meet?" she asked slyly as the elevator moved upward. Harry sighed fractionally, there was no going back on his decision now.

* * *

"Is that who I think it is?" Bruce asked, looking over Tony's shoulder into the live-feed of elevator C. Tony was smiling slightly at Harry's look of wonderment at the view.

"Yes" Tony whispered,

"Why is he here? I thought you weren't supposed to research each other? I thought he didn't know who you were?" Bruce fired off questions, pacing behind Tony. If it were any random stranger, he would be cautious, but a bit less concerned. This man was a relatively large blip under SHIELD's radar at the moment, and it wouldn't be long before someone noticed he was here. Someone being Fury possibly, if he hadn't headed back to the official New York office yet.

"We didn't know each other. Unless he has good instincts with which he'll know I knew about him, he wasn't supposed to research me. But I suppose it's only fair." Tony mused, still enthralled by Harry's reactions. Tony had taken Harry's file and broken down every single part, and even done his own bit of extensive research via hacking the British government's mainframe. Once he found nothing there, he dug a little deeper, in an archaically fashioned website on a newspaper named the Daily Prophet.

"How are you going to go about this Tony?"

"Do you want the truth or do you want me to lie to you?" Bruce pinned him with a glare, this was a very serious situation and of course Anthony would be cracking sarcastic jokes. Tony sighed and chuckled a bit, rubbing the back of his neck before answering,

"Let's go with the truth...I have absolutely no clue on how to handle this."

* * *

"Sir Fury, why do you think bringing my brother here will help? I am not sure he is ready, I am not sure my warrior friends are ready" voiced Thor while Fury prepared orders for Thor to retrieve Loki. Fury turned to look at Thor steadily,

"Even if it may not seem like it, I do have an emotional investment in this team. I would do whatever I would have to in order to save your skin Odinson. The same goes for Romanoff, Banner, Stark, Barton, Rogers, Coulsen, Hill, and whoever else is in trouble. I saw the potential in Loki whenever he attacked the city. He was emotionally fucked up, but he could do great things for both Asgard and humanity. He could get his emotions under control and dealt with, that's what shrinks are for." Thor looked at Fury with an unnamed emotion, a bit bemused at what a "shrink" was. Finally, someone could share the sympathy for his brother that he did. Even though Loki did not want his affection, Thor tried to give it to him, and even though it was a slow moving process Loki was starting to open up again.,

"I am simply not sure if bringing two "potentially dangerous" warlocks into the city is a smart idea Sir Fury" Thor said again, twisting his hands around the handle of Mjölnir.

"It's quite alright Odinson, I have this worked out in my head." Thor looked at Fury with a bit of doubt, but If Thor knew how much Fury had planned in his head, then he would be assured. Colonel Fury gave Thor his papers and everything else he needed before stalking away.

Fury had known that introducing Loki would rile the team, just like he knew that Rogers would take the bait on the faked Captain America cards that day. Rogers hadn't known that Coulsen was already in recovery, being shocked back to life. Fury also knew that this innocent looking wizard would garner their sympathy, at being seemingly blindsided by SHIELD tracking and surveillance. He was essentially killing two birds with one stone in this particular scheme. He would test Loki, on a specific set of events that would ensure the safety of civilians. He would also test and introduce Harry Potter to the rest of his team. He wanted this man as a liaison, he was powerful, and Fury wanted to know exactly how powerful. Fury knew he wouldn't take kindly to governmental manipulation after what had happened to him in Europe. Fury had read his entire file, for everything he needed to know on how to make the man tick, and he thought he had a pretty good understanding of what it would take. He had decided the moment that Potter sent his visa to be cleared, that he was on the maybe list for the Initiative.

"Why is he here?! Are you insane Stark?!" He heard Hawkeye's shrill shout from the floor down and smirked. Of course Nick had also known that Tony had already met the British wizard. He strolled leisurely out of his office area, and took the elevator down to the commons. His plan was accelerating faster than he thought possible.

Well, Nick Fury thought with a smirk, full speed ahead.

* * *

A/N: Thank you all for the lovely reviews! I tried to make Fury a bit more understandable this time ;)  
Hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

Tony greeted him with open arms.  
Literally.  
Harry wasn't used to anyone hugging him, or even getting in his personal space. But Tony's hugs felt nice. He wasn't _that_ much larger than Harry, but he seemed to engulf him in warmth. Harry hadn't even realized he was cold, or that he had desperately wanted to feel the man's arms around his shoulders. Tony smelled like expensive cologne and a touch of mechanical fluid and this spicy cloves smell.

Tony reluctantly let Harry go after marveling at how Harry's head fit perfectly under his own.

"Harry"

"Anthony," Harry stepped back to see Pepper smiling kindly at them, and an unknown man watching their movements cautiously.

"Well, I need to leave now, board meetings can't attend themselves," joked the woman before giving Tony a stern look. That left the two men in the room with the other man, who was still perched on by the lab table.

"Harry Potter, this is Doctor Bruce Banner, my colleague" Harry moved to shake the doctor's hand,

"I love what you've done in light wave particles and radiation studies," Bruce really shouldn't be shocked, Tony had told him that the slighter man was educated, but it suddenly hit him how intelligent Harry must be. This man didn't attend a school where they taught maths and chemistry and life sciences. He attended a school that focused on spell casting and divination and broom-centric sports.

"Well I'm glad someone enjoys my work," Bruce said with a tight smile before releasing the smaller man's hand. Bruce examined them, Harry was taking in the lab with a lighted interest in his eyes...and Tony was watching _Harry_ with lighted interest in his eyes.

"Maybe you should take Mr. Potter on a tour of the tower? I am sure he would enjoy seeing your library. Besides, I am going to be busy with research and won't offer much conversation" said Bruce, turning back to his microscopes with a bit of guilt after seeing the slight male's eyes glimmer at the mention of research. Tony took Harry's hand suddenly, startling the young wizard a bit before he gripped the other man's hand back and smiled.

* * *

Tony took Harry on a tour of the tower, from the beginning of the facilities above the offices to the common floor, where they were currently. He was planning on taking Harry to his place next, where Tony envisioned they would go on a leisurely tour of his suit room and observatory before ordering food and maybe kissing for a bit. Tony was on cloud five when the elevator doors opened, and was greatly shocked by Clint's outburst. Normally the man was calm and cool and collected and open to explanations. Tony knew it was because of the addition of Loki to their forces very soon. To Harry, it seemed that they had been greeted by a hysteric, yet stoic looking man, which seemed to be threatened by Harry's presence.

"I'll ask again, are you you insane Stark?" Harry looked a bit confused, turning to look at his friend,

"You brought the potentially dangerous wizard into our facilities? Isn't it bad enough that Loki will have to live here soon?" suddenly it dawned on the shorter male the reason for this man's reaction, and he felt betrayal well up in his chest. He could feel his throat close a little and he fought tear as he turned to Anthony with a hurt, devastated look on his face.

"I figured you would research me thoroughly, but to inform your team of my _potential danger_ was a bit farfetched and rash I believe Mr. Stark. If you do not mind I will take my leave now, do not bother to look for me again, because you most certainly will not find me" Tony looked into Harry's eyes and grabbed hold of his hand tightly. He had just met him and it was certainly not his fault that the birdman was squawking, he could see Harry's tears forming and he wanted to pull the man into another hug. Tony opened his mouth, almost apologizing at the saddened look in Harry's eyes before the elevator doors opened with a bing.

"Actually Mister Potter the fault would be mine, I hope you can forgive our friend Iron Man, he has nothing to do with the alarm of my team members." Harry whipped around to face a tall, dark man with an eye patch and a frown, who was trying far too hard to give off an intimidating air. He was immediately reminded of Mad-Eye Moody, yet with none of the half-boiled insanity turned courageous morality, but all of the bravado and covertness.

The man extended his hand, and instead of taking it Harry turned to examine the other two people emerging from the elevator. The woman was moving to flank the man, while the other man was hanging back, watching the exchange with chagrin and sympathy. The woman had curves that Narcissa Black would die for coated in black leather, and her crimson bob swung around her face in a flattering way. However, she scared Harry far more than the Colonel, who was watching him carefully. She was a combination of Snape, Hermione, and Bellatrix. She held herself in the way of a spy, like Severus, she had a maternal forcefulness about her, a woman who missed her chance at children, and she looked a bit on the loose cannon side.

And for all of his interest in Tony, he could not drag his eyes away from the large blond hunk who acted as if he were Harry himself. He was gorgeous and muscular and unknowingly charismatic, yet he acted small and anxious and unsure of himself. This was the grand Captain America. Without the guise of his suit and shield he was vulnerable, like a Pureblood wizard set in the muggle streets of London without his robes or wand.

"You must be Colonel Nicholas Fury, Director of SHIELD and the assembler of the Avengers Initiative,"

"It seems we are not the only ones who are well informed" said the woman smirking, and placing her hand out in a manner similar to Fury's, which Harry still hadn't shaken.

His betrayal wasn't yet completely thrown off his shoulders. Maybe Tony was planning on warning him once they reached his personal apartments. But he had had plenty of opportunities as they toured libraries and laboratories and artistry rooms.

He reached out and grabbed the woman's hand, taking the firm grip for what it was, a woman not to be underestimated amongst her co-workers.

"Natasha Romanoff?" Harry questioned, shaking her hand like a lady and bending to kiss it as per wizarding social customs. She looked a bit shell-shocked for a moment before smiling in a warm, predatory fashion and nodding. Fury cleared his throat and withdrew his hand to his side in an aggravated manner,

"As I was saying Mister Potter, the fault of your information being spread amongst my team was my fault. I was forced by my...higher ups to brief my team on the possibility of you becoming hostile." Harry immediately recognized a spark of Dumbledore within this man, and in turn held out his hand for Fury to shake. He was willing to play the game and bite the bait, if only to see what Fury's motives were, though he had a good idea already. If this Director were trying to drag him into American politics, he had no wish for it. If he were asking him to save lives, however, he would be hard-pressed to put his research above innocent people. But he knew people like Fury, and Harry knew that Fury probably thought he was "inside" Harry's head, a place that Harry would wish on no-one, and that Fury would pull the hero-complex card first and foremost.

Nick Fury took his hand and shook it cautiously, while Harry made eye contact, waiting for a proper length of time in which the Director would be properly warned to keep his distance.

"I've only counted four, where is the fifth?" Harry voiced, jamming his pockets and reverting to a blank sort of mask, trying to seem as unreadable as possible. Everyone looked a bit puzzled, and upon looking to Tony and softening a little, he reiterated,

"I see the Black Widow, the Hawk, the Captain, Dr. Banner was downstairs, and then of course, the Iron Man. But where is the Norse god? Didn't Mr. Barton say something regarding Loki?" Harry voiced in a carefully phrased manner, an attempt to show he knew less than he actually did. Fury caught on, narrowing his eye a little before replying,

"He is, indeed, fetching his brother."  
Harry raised an eyebrow,

"I don't follow American news much, but an alien race almost demolishing a world-centered city is pretty big news. Correct me if I'm wrong, sir, but you are bringing him here to contain me if necessary? That seems a bit risky. But if I am right in my assessments, you seem to relish in the possible risks and have already calculated probable outcomes" Harry moved while he spoke, towards the nearest window to look at the bustling city below. Hawkeye and Natasha held their shock well, while Steve allowed himself to look a little more openly amazed. Tony simply looked proud, while Fury grew even more "intimidating."

"You are a smart man Mister Potter, I am afraid you see right through me, and while in other circumstances I would butter you up and feed you half-truths I am almost certain you would walkout of my office without giving me the courtesy of even a maybe. So I'll be straight forward. I was planning on using Loki to contain you if it was necessary. I was also planning on asking you to consult for SHIELD on occasion, or be a part of the Avengers if you wished." Fury looked to the man who seemed to be locked on the view of this section of the city. Harry cleared his throat, and instead of responding to Fury's soliloquy, just asked,

"Who wants lunch? I'm a bit famished." Anthony couldn't help but smile winningly at him and walk up to his side,

"I am pretty hungry as well, does the offer of you making me lunch still stand?" Harry looked at him and tried to hang onto his previously felt hurt, but instead blushed at the scrutiny Anthony put him under,

"I wasn't aware I offered," the rest of the room looked on interestedly as the two men seemed to be in a private area, the chemistry and tension between them obvious to everyone but the two men.

"You didn't, nonetheless you brought up a fair amount of delicious sounding recipes this morning and you mentioned cooking was a hobby, so I figured you may possibly want to impress me with your cooking skills." Harry rolled his eyes and turned to stare down at the city once more.

"It's not like I have anywhere else to be. Will any of you be eating with us as well?" As an answer, Romanoff strolled to the table and sat down where Clint had vacated upon the two men's arrival. Fury just turned and stalked to the elevator, knowing Harry was a lot smarter and a lot more shrewd than he let on, knowing that Harry would give him an answer once he had thought the decision through carefully. Steve just hung in the balance, unsure of the slighter male who had piqued the interest of so many difficult people.

Their team was a risk, exactly as the shorter man had pointed out.  
Tony was volatile, Bruce was volatile, Hawkeye was volatile, Natasha was volatile, Thor was a curve ball, and Steve just wanted everyone to play nice. It had taken a series of well calculated risks to bring them into any semblance of a team or family. But somehow they had grown closer than Fury had realized, or even planned for. Tony and Bruce were fairly close, Steve was somewhat of an authority figure, and Hawkeye and Natasha tried to remain distant from everyone else; but somehow they had all grown to care about each other and know one another's ticks and tricks.

Steve looked over the male once more, his wild black hair and wide green eyes and hands tucked un-threateningly into his pants pockets. No robes, no wand, no broom, no threats.

Steve took a seat at the table as Tony opened his mouth,

"What's on the menu Salem?" he smirked winningly as Harry walked to the refrigerator,

"I'm not sure if you were referencing a horrid event in your heritage's history towards my people _or_ if you were comparing me to a talking cat from a teenage witch's TV exploits, which aren't entirely false by the way."  
Tony just laughed a warm and booming laugh, settling at the table, and Natasha smiled a little. Clint still looked a little unsure, but was starting to thaw as Steve smiled, not really catching the second reference. Natasha was more than welcoming of this intelligent, frail looking magic user.  
No one had gotten Tony to laugh like that, out of the public eye, in a very long time, and she couldn't be happier.


	7. Chapter 7

Anthony Stark was almost positive that Harry had put magic directly into the ingredients of that carbonara. How else did is taste _so_ good? He groaned and backed out of his nearly empty second bowl. Natasha had stopped after one, Clint was working on his third, as was Bruce, and Steve was about to polish off his fourth. Super metabolism for a super boy, Stark thought with a snort.

"Well, it has been lovely entertaining all of you, but I really must get back to my hotel. I have quite a few valuable things that even my wards might not be able to protect."

Tony looked as if he wanted to protest but could not properly do such thing as the younger man stood, taking advantage of Tony's pasta stuffed mouth. Harry waved goodbye to the group, and all of them waved back as Tony sprung from his seat.

"Wetme waff yew ow," he said around a full mouth and though Harry made a face at him, his green eyes sparkled in amusement. He was very proud that the team liked his food so much. Even though they waited to dig in until Tony didn't collapse after his first bite.

He felt it was probably because, even though he loved preparing ingredients by hand, he used a bit of magic just to show off. He had long learned to keep his magical signature down to avoid wreaking havoc on technology, even though if he were exposed to technology long term, just the strength of his magical core alone would make the wires and circuits go wild. Normally when cooking, which was just as much of an art as potions making, he would take great care with preparing his vegetables and meats and doughs by hand, there was a definite difference between slicing and cutting and chopping. Today, however, he set the bacon and onions to chop themselves as he prepared the pasta water with a pinch of olive oil and salt. He turned around to see the two Bonds just watching with blank faces, hiding the shock that Harry could see in their eyes, while Tony and Steve looked openly awed. Bruce had walked into the kitchen hesitantly just as Harry was charming some lemons into sacrificing themselves into lemonade. Bruce looked very curious and stood at the end of the counter to watch Harry work.

The kitchen was a very open set-up, a type he was fond of. A lot of counter space, the appliances mostly confined to one corned near the large two door fridge, the range and oven and microwave all in a stack. Harry had plated the pasta, breaking the egg over it while magically chopping some spinach and tomato. He then whisked some vinaigrette for the salad and pulled some feta from the fridge while the pasta settled and the lemonade glassed itself.

They had waited with bated breath, for Tony's first bite. To be honest, Harry was probably more nervous than the solemn spies before Tony emitted a high pitched moan of pleasure that made Harry and Steve blush at the same time. The rest of the team had promptly caved in to their "breakfast" pasta with gusto, the boys making a face at the greens before begrudgingly eating the evil salad as well.

Harry had learned a bit in kitchens, both potions kitchens and cuisine kitchens, in his random European travels. He had gotten the chance to escape the British press at least once every summer for a vacation of about three months each. This lead to a grand total of 14 escapes that he had cherished every moment of. He had visited Italy thrice, splitting the country into three sections in order to get the best out of the experience, France twice, Russia twice, Germany, Spain, Finland, Denmark, the Netherlands, Ireland, and Wales. Germany, Russia, Spain, Ireland, and Denmark had taught him some cooking skills and passed down recipes, but they were mostly used to hone some of his battle skills. He wasn't gearing up for another war, but he felt he had skipped so much in the process of training to be ready for the Dark Lord. He wanted to go back and fill those gaps. And he did so by training his body to a perfection: fight or flight responses and feline reflexes and exemplary weapons training and martial arts. And he did so by expanding his magical core and focusing his magic and becoming in tune with the earth and the magical fault lines that intersected her. And he did so with ancient studies on the cultures of the Norse people and the Russian wizards and runes and spell making and all of these intense and difficult subjects. He had been so thirsty for knowledge in a way he had never encountered before.

He gave all of the credit to Charlie really...

He had visited Romania for a bit, following the war, before heading to Russia for the first time. Charlie had come on to him, and come on to him quick. He hadn't really accepted his sexuality at that point, but Charlie had a way of opening his eyes, and his legs, that Harry was intoxicated by. He eventually realized that there was no way that him and Charlie could ever work out in the long run, however. He was dedicated to his potionry and his studies and his wanderlust and Charlie was firmly rooted where the dragons slept. But him and the elder Weasley were still great friends and had enjoyed some casual romps over the years.

Tony broke Harry from his lip biting, which was extremely attractive, and brooding with a clearing of his throat as the elevator was descending. They were almost halfway down to the ground floor now.

"So, you're staying in a hotel?" Harry nodded and made eye contact with the elder, shivering a bit at the intensity he found in them.

"Why don't you move in with me?" He blurted out, and then looked shocked. His eyes bulged and his fists clenched and Harry tried to keep a straight face and not laugh or look pissed.

"I mean..that is to say..I have plenty of floors available, I'm not asking you to move into my apartment or anything because we barely know each other and you seem like a very private man and even if you are filthy rich according to English tabloids you still shouldn't waste a month's worth of living expenses on a hotel and it could be very dangerous, like you said about your stuff and wards, but that's not me saying I think you're unable to defend yourself you seem very capable and oh boy I'm rambling..." Harry settled on laughter,

"I'll think about it Tony. I definitely need more time to think about it, and it is probably best that you let Thor settle his brother by name in before I come sniffing around. Two sorcerers settling in the same area at the same time would probably invoke a pissing contest none of you want to deal with," Harry said with some caution, glancing towards the elevator display to find them on the seventh floor.

"Well would you at least like to go to dinner with me tomorrow night? And maybe come spar with me tomorrow? And you should probably make me lunch again, you know BLT's are my favorite right?" Harry raised an eyebrow and grinned at how forlorn the man looked and sounded. He would agree to his terms, for Anthony wasn't to be completely trusted yet but he was definitely intriguing. Something about the man was just so significant to him, but that didn't mean he would let him in without a fight. A kicking and screaming and scratching and biting fight.

But he also didn't know that Anthony Edward Stark _always_ got what he wanted.

* * *

Harry was relieved that his cauldrons were still under stasis. He was also relieved that none of his belongings had been touched, the bed still unmade as he had requested no maid service enter his room. He was a grown man, who had the beginnings of a house elf, who could clean up his own damn messes.

The replenishers to his stores, pepper-up, calming draught, modified dittany, headache potion, dreamless sleep, skele-grow, and veritaserum, were all the exact color and thickness they ought to be. He went ahead and waved his hand over the healing draughts to bottle them, before they cooled completely. However, his dittany, dreamless sleep, and veritaserum required a bit more work. Dittany wasn't usually brewed, it was an essence, a perfume almost. However, he had made some alterations to his formula that worked harder than to just heal the skin or soft tissues, he had added some stabilizers and a pinch of very expensive powdered unicorn hair and a single drop of Phoenix tears. His potion could be dropped onto the skin, like normal dittany, or it could be swallowed, in the case of internal damage or large wounds.  
The veritaserum potion was complex in general and he wouldn't have started it if his bottle weren't close to being empty. He had used only a 2oz bottle of the stuff since he last brewed it during his internship, almost eleven years ago. Veritaserum could be brewed in large batches, however he never had room to store it being as how medical potions took importance. He made smaller batches, the ingredients scaled down, to avoid more than one full 6oz bottle.  
He tended the potions as necessary, and put them under a "brewing stasis," which was a bit like an airplane's autopilot. It was never to be attempted on a potion that wasn't in perfect condition, or by a warlock who wasn't yet a potions master.

With this work done, he was left to strip for bed and think, which was always dangerous. He wasn't quite sure what he should make of Tony's offer. He would be silly to try to deny the chemistry that was between them; however, their relationship would likely be more impossible than his and Charlie's. If they were to work out, even minutely, it would be a romp, a one-time thing…Merlin knows Harry hasn't had a good tussle in the sheets in at least a year…But he liked Tony for more than just a one-night stand...  
To distract himself from the images of how Stark's lips would feel pressed against his and what Tony might look like under his clothes, he picked up the weathered journal on his nightstand. He thumbed through Snape's journal for the thousandth time, sighing because he could still feel traces of the man's magic in the creases closer to the spine and binding of the book.

He still kept Snape's dying memories in a bottle in one of his Gringotts vaults. He wished he could have known the man better. He wished he could have saved him or that the circumstances of Snape's role in the war wouldn't have dictated their enmity. He almost shed a tear on the page of how to correctly crush flowers, but tonight wasn't the night for tears. It was still two weeks away from May first and he would save all of his mourning and tears for that day.  
On that day he would not get out of bed until almost midnight, and at that time he would light a votive lantern for every friend and family member and stranger that he let die. On that day, he would lie in bed and wallow in sadness and cry and sob and scream until his throat bled, because that was the one day of the year when he allowed himself to feel guiltily.

This was his allotted time to be just another guilty person, wallowing in their self-pity.

* * *

A/N: Poor Harry…  
But anyways it's been a while since I've thanked my reviewers!  
I love the support and love ya'll give this fix ^_^ thank you all.  
So to save some word count (since this isn't the longest chapter I've posted….But expect a LONG and ACTION filled next chapter) I'll thank those who reviewed for the sixth chapter!

THANK YOU TO:  
cjb1990: Well you are very very welcome and I shall try to give you MOAR  
dogsby: I love how intimidating Harry can be when he wants to be ;)  
RRW: Oh how right you are! There will be more delightful Harry-upstanding-Fury in the near future ;)  
xDarklightx: I'm trying to keep you all on your toes…but shhhh it's a secret ;)  
WereBunny87: Thank you my loyal darling! I always look forward to your reviews :)  
violet-snowflake: glad to make you smile ;)  
JasonDragon64: Thank you! I try to put a little of my personal attitude in there ;)  
StValentineSt: Well I imagine Fury to be that type of man, but I hope you enjoyed the Avenger's reaction to his pasta ;) Fae0306: thank you! I try to keep the thermostat on low ;)  
Silvermane1: thank you! I try to keep the best ideas in the freezer ;)  
Mec15Potters: Gracias! Espero que usted no está literalmente muriendo aunque ... Espero que esto no es demasiado masacrado mi español es muy oxidada :)  
cinnaatheart: thank you milady, and I hope you are not disappointed by my rendition of Loki! You are almost correct in a few aspects ;) I am going to try my hardest to make him live up to his reputation as Silver-tongue ;)  
Pri-Chan 1410: Thank you! I hope you like him a little more after my story, or at least hate him a little less ;) I want to try to make him less of a twat but it might take a while ;D  
ChibiAyane: Thank you very much my loyal doll! I'm glad to have sparked your imagination :) I am very pleased with your suggestions, I read this review right before I posted this chapter, and I am almost scared about how similar our brains are!  
Ash-Bookwork113: thank you so so much! though groveling will not be necessary, I'm not entirely sure my feet smell the best ;D hahaha but anyways, I hope you continue to enjoy my little story here :)  
Sliver of Melody: Thank you very much, I try to keep my stories a bit chilly, it's this winter weather I assure you ;)  
Constance Truggle: I very much like what you did there, with your pen name! Very clever madame ;) but I'm glad you are enjoying thus far!  
kingsholto: it is a Tony/Harry pairing! They have SO much chemistry ;) if I were a kinkier girl it might occasionally be a Tony/Harry/Avenger/Avenger/possibly another Avenger story ;) but I'm glad you're enjoying it so far!

And THANK YOU to everyone else who has reviewed that I haven't responded to! I appreciate you all so very very much!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I am so glad you all are enjoying the story! I hope you like this chapter, and you guys will DEFINITELY like the next chapter.

* * *

Tony eyed the wizard with distrust in his eyes. The man with black hair in a pony tail with a new piercing in his left ear, and two temporary "tattoos" on both wrists that shone through the thin fabric of his long sleeved shirt as he ate. Tony had asked Thor about them quietly, to which the man drew from his rarely used tact and whispered that they bound Loki's magic in certain ways.

The wizard certainly seemed to be enjoying the leftovers of the meal Harry cooked, magical hindrance included.

"This is delicious Stark, it has a tang of seiðr…..what is it you mortals call it, magic? From what eatery did you purchase this meal?" Loki finished his bowl with finesse and raised his eyebrow in a mocking manner. Certainly the man knew Tony did not cook, and definitely did not have magic.

"A friend of mine made it," he answered protectively, bristling at the thought of Loki meeting Harry.

"It was very good Starkson, please compliment the chef for me," Thor rumbled. Tony didn't even know _how_ Harry had known to make extra, or when he had slipped it into the fridge in the common room without anyone noticing. Perks of magic he guessed.

"Well, I've _trustingly _given Loki his own floor, above Thor's and below Black Widow's." Loki looked up and smirked. Tony wasn't a very trusting man, but he could see the subtle differences in the man. Whatever he had endured on Asgard for his punishment for invading "Midgard" had left him a bit shaken in his leather Asgardian boots. He was still sarcastic and snarky and held a slight air of arrogance; however, Tony could see beneath the veneer, since he donned one himself. He could see that Loki was a bit more fragile than he wanted anyone to know. He lashed out with anger and wit and sarcasm, but he was broken and needed help healing.

Even though Tony realized this, he would never break the news to anyone (that was Loki's place), and furthermore he was not a healer. He couldn't even help himself most days; he relied way too heavily on alcohol more than half the days of the year.

Loki stood and took his plate to the sink, filling it with warm soapy water to the shock of Thor and Stark. He was the only one left in the commons by the time Loki and Thor had arrived. He told himself that it was because he was worried about Thor, when in fact it was the anniversary of his parent's death and he was avoiding retiring to his chambers where their faces would stare at him from square frames placed all over his room.

Tony was surprised that Loki was able to do common household chores without griping about how far above such menial labor he was. Upon later interrogation of Thor, he realized that Loki was a man of menial labor, always wanting to make his own bows and cook his food to his likings and weaving spells and magic and making potions on his own. He had apparently scrutinized the man too hard for Loki's liking, the wizard could probably sense that Tony saw through his cracked mask, and decided to lash out for it.

"Why are you even still awake Stark? You frail humans need some form of rest in between sunrises. Surely you're not afraid of the dark, or is it that you are too unmanly to return to whatever woman is waiting in your bed, can't you satisfy a woman Stark?" Loki taunted him while Thor just avoided Tony's gaze, he had obviously been thinking the same thing, though probably not as harshly.

"Why does it matter to you Reindeer Games? My longest jaunt without sleep is currently recorded at 51 hours, 43 minutes, and 17 seconds." Tony said it as if he were proud of the fact, but he really was not. He was so afraid of closing his eyes and seeing his parents and seeing Obadiah die, seeing himself kill Obadiah, and seeing Yinsen perish and feeling the ghost pain of the arc reactor his subconscious created while he slept. He was so afraid of closing his eyes and being afraid of never waking up, similar to flying into the black hole in the sky Loki had created when the Chitauri descended upon his planet, his home.

Loki stared at him, a bit thrown off by the conflicting aggressions in Stark's face and demeanor, before letting it go, standing from the table, and sulking to the elevator.

"Try to get some sleep Man of Iron... Surely you are not trying to make that record longer than it needs to be..." Thor stood, clapping Tony on the shoulder before depositing his ale tankard in the sink and strolling from the room. Tony sighed and looked down. He would eventually, like everybody else, have to face his mourning. He would have to walk in his room and remove his ACDC t-shirt and stare at his mother's smile and his fathers hair and let tears fall from his eyes in a show of weakness and overflow of emotion. He would have to eventually, but now was not the time.

* * *

"Harrison James Potter, I know you received my four emails, three muggle letters, and six owls before I sent you a house elf. I expected better from you, which is why you are listening to a very deceptively calm Howler. Please, return my attempts at contact before I really begin tracking you in earnest. Hermione, and her bumbling husband, is on my side Potter. We are...quite nervous for your whereabouts since you left England some three months ago. You have 24 hours Potter."

Harry watched as the Howler from Draco shredded itself into thin air. He had heard the worry in his friends voice, but he had just needed some time. That's why he went to India before deciding to go to America. That's why he had poly-juiced himself while in London, getting his passport straight for extended travel.

He needed time away from his duties and old school friends and wizarding Britain. He wanted some time to be by himself or to be just Harry and to work on his research without the Ministry breathing down his neck.  
They didn't understand. Well maybe Draco might. But Harry doubted it. He turned over in his bed again, Malfoy didn't seem to realize it was very early in the morning in America. Well… then again, he hadn't told Malfoy he was in America. Or Hermione. Or Ron. Or Fred. Or George. Or Molly. Or anyone. Except Kingsley Shacklebolt and the head of the foreign travel sector of the Ministry.

He felt guilt pang at his stomach. There was too much guilt to be had here. He couldn't stomach lying in bed holding back hysterical sobs and trying to swallow his pity any longer. He doubted Anthony would still be awake, but he needed a kitchen. He needed to bake. But first, he needed to run.

That's what he would do. He would run, come back and finish his potions, pack, run again, find a market, and run to Stark Tower.

Well...that might be taking Tony up on his offer a little too soon... But baking muffins of all varieties and cooking breakfast and making bread sounded delightful. Harry could only imagine what Tony's personal kitchens looked like. He was almost salivating at the thought as he changed into dri-fit shorts and a wife beater, careful to put glamors over his scars and wand, before strolling out the door.

He had heard that New York was not a place for one single person to roam past midnight, but he was actually hoping that some soul would be _lucky_ enough to cross his path.

* * *

He was angry at his magical core. He was angry at it for growing and he was angry at having to make adjustment potions for it, to soothe the frayed ends of the magic that slipped, unbidden, from his body. He hadn't noticed it until he went to closely examine oranges, the last items on his list. He had touched them and all of the oranges started vibrating and dancing with energy, come to life by a swath of his magic.

He needed to master a new form of magic.

He had wandless down, even if using a wand was easier, and he had experimented with raw magic use before. He believed that his experimentation with runes and spell weaving was what kick started his magic growth in the first place. He needed to find a tutor, and he needed to find one quick.

* * *

"Sir. Sir you really must wake up."

"What Jarvis?" Tony moaned groggily and planted his face more firmly onto the side of his pillow.

"Mister Potter is waiting outside of your private elevator, waiting entrance."

Tony had never woken up so quickly in his life. He almost jumped out of bed and made sure to pull on a pair of shorts before quickly walking, not running mind you, to his elevator to press the approval button. He heard the gears turning and could do no more than stare at the closed steel doors in anticipation.

The doors slid open and there stood a sweating Harry, clad in only running shorts, shoes, a wife beater and his own sweat. Tony was so busy in devouring the other male's appearance he didn't notice what the man was holding. Harry was smirking at him in amusement, before noticing what the man himself was wearing. It was around 7am so it was only to be assumed that Tony was still in bed, he felt bad for waking him up, but he certainly did not feel bad for getting to see the man shirtless with bed hair. His well-defined chest muscles were tensing with every inhale and exhale and Harry couldn't even find it in him to blush about the silence they were spending just staring at one another.

"Good morning Anthony," Harry finally broke the impasse by speaking, and moving around Tony to examine the man's quarters.

"Why did you go grocery shopping?"

"Well, see, I couldn't sleep so I woke up and went for a run and packed my things and checked out of my hotel and went grocery shopping because I want to bake, and I'm very sorry for waking you up but can I repay you with breakfast?" Harry rambled and Tony was just so awe-struck with how breathtaking he was, just slightly out of breath and sweaty and his hair was ruffled. Tony stared for a second, in silence, after Harry finished his rambling. Harry shifted slightly and looked down, before Tony answered breathlessly,

"Yes, of course. I'm going to get a shower and put on some clothes."

"That sounds really nice actually. Do you mind if I do that? But not while you are showering, I don't think we need to shower together, but it's not that you aren't attractive it's just...I...um…. all of that came out wrong" Tony stared at Harry predatorily before releasing a loud and booming laugh.

"I have a spare bathroom, let's drop those bags off in the kitchen and then I'll give you a tour." Harry smiled, reassured, and nodded.

* * *

By the time Harry was led to the guest bathroom, in the guest room, he was in awe. The man's quarters were brilliant, and he had been promised a full tour of the Mark Room and Tony's workshop after breakfast. Harry was very worried about actually touching any equipment, being as how his magic was a bit more unruly today than it normally was. He had only taken one of two doses of the potion remedy. He still had to take the core-expanding one being as how he had taken the one to soothe the ends of his pathways, but still needed to make more room in his core for the new magic that was growing.

He stripped before stepping into a spaceship-esque shower, that rained perfectly hot water down upon his tanned shoulders. For a man who hotel hopped for the best showers and tubs, this had to be one of the best showers he had ever used. He guessed money could buy you those sorts of things.

After dressing he headed back to the kitchen to find Tony pouring two cups of coffee,

"I hope you don't mind that I made coffee, but that's one of the only things I can prepare without burning it" Harry just smiled and took his coffee cup from Tony. It was strange, to see that their coffee cups didn't match. Most of the things in Anthony's apartment were brand new, and bought for a lavish living space. However, the dishes and pots and pans were used looking, and a bit hodgepodge.

"They were my mother's... I... since we moved here, the team, I haven't spent much time in Malibu, so I sent for most of my personal things to be in this apartment." Harry nodded and got started on breakfast.

Anthony loved to watch him cook. It was like watching a musician play. He did so many things so gingerly, but swiftly, and Anthony was watching a tapestry being weaved from spinach and eggs and tomatoes and oranges and sugar and salt and pepper. It was magic; even when his mother had cooked as a kid it hadn't looked, or felt, like this.

Don't misunderstand him, it wasn't the magic that Harry used, for he didn't use any in this particular meal, it was the magic that Harry radiated. He was charismatic and charming and handsome and he didn't even know it. He moved with grace and fluidity and it was beautiful, he danced everywhere and Tony told every corny joke in his book to get that half-amused smirk or exasperated smile and gentle laugh from the man.

Harry began placing dish after dish on the bar: omelets, blueberry pancakes, fresh-fruit topped with créme frâiche, orange-cranberry muffins, bacon, buttermilk biscuits, sausage links, toasted English muffins, croissants, double chocolate chip muffins, and fresh squeezed orange juice.

Tony had never smelled anything quite like it in his life, and as Harry poured a finger of vodka into his orange juice, a morning Screwdriver, Tony had never been completely sure of anything in his entire life.

He was going to make Harry his.

He wasn't completely sure if he was okay with being attracted to a male and what that entailed, after years of fucking big-titted blondes. He wasn't completely sure if Harry would even be attracted to him, enough to stay with him for a lifetime.

But he was completely sure that this man had some insight to his life, some insight into his soul, some connection with his nature that he had never known with another human being.

Tony was completely sure that his couldn't help his overly giddy smile as he dug into his food, and watched Harry smile at his enjoyment and relax into the chair next to him.


	9. Chapter 9

Tony grunted as he hit the floor again.

He wasn't much for one-on-one, hand-to-hand combat, but he had his fair share of training in the art. Even so, Harry was kicking his ass up and down _his_ gym, and laughing at him while doing it.

It might have been that he kept getting distracted by the attractive, slighter male, but it was probably that he was still in a food coma and the small wizard was very swift and adept at what he was doing. Tony just laid on the floor this time, listening as Harry laughed and sat down next to him,

"Did I break you Anthony?" Tony just hid his smile in the floor and grunted loudly in a grumpy manner. Oh he wished Harry could break him, in the naughtiest way possible. Harry laughed again at Tony's grunt as the door to the room opened, and he felt Harry move next to him without looking up.

"Steve, nice to see you again." He could almost hear Harry blushing as Tony quickly rose off the floor and brushed the invisible dirt off of his shirt.

"Are you two sparring?" Steve asked interestedly, before dropping his gym bag by the door.

"Yes we are would you like to join us?" Harry asked, re-wrapping tape over his knuckles, while Tony frowned a little but didn't want to act like a brat in front of Harry by protesting. Capsicle looked to Tony in a bit of surprise, he figured the man would uproar at his "friend" showing Steve any bit of attention. Not that Steve didn't understand, Harry was adorable and his food was more than enough to make any man fall head over heels in love with him.

"Maybe yes, are you good at sparring?"

"Is he good? Hell Cap, I would wager on him being better than the murderous spider herself" Steve nodded, a bit awed once more at how quickly Tony complimented this man. Tony was self-centered and narcissistic and he rarely complimented anyone other than himself.

"Well I'd like to take you on, little wizard" Steve said kindly, Tony bristled once more, but didn't say anything as the two men began fighting. They traded blows and punches and Tony wasn't very protective until the fighting began in earnest. He was very tempted to tell the Capsicle to watch his super strength. Harry, even though less breakable than he, was a whole _lot_ more breakable than Cap. The fight seemed to go on endlessly, both men dancing around each other, though Tony could tell that Harry was still holding back where Steven wasn't…Finally, tired of dancing, Harry ended it by using a solar-plexus kick on Steve, coupled with a swipe of his leg behind Steve's knees, trapping him on the floor and straddling him in a caging manner.

Tony started clapping and Harry jumped up, sending him a large smile before offering Steve a hand up. Steve smiled and took his hand, their hands lingering together longer than Tony thought necessary.

"Nice job Harry, best fight I've had in ages," Steve smiled kindly, still holding Harry's hand,

"Grandpa means it quite literally, don't you Capsicle?" Steve frowned, but Harry giggled and pushed Anthony on the shoulder,  
"Be nice to your elders, junior" Harry admonished in a teasing manner. Anthony wanted to be annoyed, but somehow, he could not even muster the littlest bit of indignation.

* * *

Loki was picking up on the most exquisite tingle of magic. It resembled the Seiðr that had added body and spice to his pasta dish the night before. It was a very faint trail, and he would not have picked up on it if had he not have stepped into the elevator. He wanted desperately to follow the trail, but was sadly restricted to only his floor, the other Avenger's floors (minus Stark's), the gym or the creative floors, and the common floor. Everywhere else was strictly off limits, unless he had been given express permission. If he even attempted otherwise, Jarvis would shut down the elevator or use brute force to contain him, and with most of his more defensive magic restrained, he was not able to properly defend against such an attack.

However, when he stepped off at the gym floor, the magic got stronger and he was drawn to it as a "moth to a flame," as these silly humans might say. He had caught up on quite a bit of mortal slang and mortal living standards as he had thrived among them for so long. He had put his cooking skills to use in a bakery, became more personable and respecting of the people he walked amongst, and learned all of that "character" and "conscience" dribble that Fury droned. It was almost touching how he had come to resent the humans a little less, while respecting them a little more. However, unlike Thor, he still knew his place as their superior.

He still had some baser magical skills, and used them to cloak himself with shadows as he drew nearer to the source of the magic. He saw the blonde and hulking red, white, and blue man passionately battling with a small, pale, man with a…mop...of black hair.

Surely if this man had such magical strength, he could use it to look halfway presentable. At this thought, Loki snorted.

He started observing more closely, picking up little hints and nuances of the scene. There seemed to be some sort of tension between the smaller man and the large blonde brute he was fighting, but not the negative kind of tension. It was most definitely sensual, if very hidden behind the sparring aggression.

Loki then scanned the room once more, to see Stark looking on with a mix of anger, worry, and a tinge of lust written all over his stony face. For which man was the "ladies man" lusting over?  
Loki gave a wolfish grin. This situation most certainly had just gotten a lot more interesting than what he bargained for when agreeing to stay in this tower with his insufferable brother and his superhero friends.

Suddenly, the fight came to a stop as the pale little thing unleashed his strength, through with holding back, and ended the fight by putting the brute in his place on the floor. Loki smirked and was tempted to clap, whenever he finally got a good look at the wizard. If he had not looked closer, and had tasted this man's Seiðr to pick up on basic clues, he would have mistaken him for a woman. He certainly was delicate and feminine, yet upon a closer inspection he was definitely male. He gave off a rough and tumble vibe, some sort of dangerously alluring pull, and it was simply delicious. Loki licked his lips as he continued to study the men in the room, their puzzling interactions with one another. Was this some sort of love triangle? This small, porcelain man was beautiful, and somehow, Loki was now less disgusted with the man's inability to straighten his hair. It fit perfect with his wide, emerald eyes.

He watched as the male blushed while engaged in a prolonged handshake with the leader of the group, and suddenly Stark butted in with some outrageous comment making the ravenite laugh. His laugh was tinkling and addictive, and suddenly Loki realized where he recognized this familiar little creature from.

This man was his opponent, the entire reason he was even in Stark Towers at the present day.

Well, this is just getting curiouser and curiouser, Loki thought with a shark-like grin, before snapping his fingers and disappearing to his chambers.

* * *

Harry heard the nearly inaudible pop, and cursed himself for not being better on his guard. He tested the air to find traces of magic, and the magical signature that came back was unfamiliar. He would have to be more careful, as he realized now that Malfoy was out for him. Him and Malfoy had developed a nice camaraderie after the great war, and when the blonde wanted something to happen, he would always get his way. Harry wouldn't have normally been so concerned, if not for the fact that his friends would be put in more danger if they stumbled across his new locale. Plus, he was being very selfish in the want to have a few secrets, a new life away from his previous hardships.

Harry was almost frightened, almost paranoid, as he glanced around the room, not catching the Captain or Tony's look of concern.

"Harry are you okay?" Tony asked touching his arm gently, the change in the slighter male had been very sudden, as if he was attuned to something they were not aware of.

"Yeah just thought I felt something," he offered a fake assuring smile and a supporting comment,

"It's a magical thing," Tony nodded and took Harry's arm, saying farewell to the Captain and steering Harry towards the elevator.

"Out of curiosity Anthony, is Loki already here?" Harry questioned quietly, looking down at his hands as the elevator ascended to Tony's apartments. Tony cursed in his head, he should have thought to inform the younger male, as he would probably be sensitive to the motions of the other illusionist in the area.

"Yes actually, he got here last night" Tony answered in a hesitant manner, and Harry simply bit his lip and nodded in thought.

"Remind me to check my potions that are still under stasis after we take tea" Tony just looked, in awe, at the younger male staring in this manner until he noticed,

"Was it something I said?" The male said awkwardly under Tony's scrutiny,

"You have potions with you? You have to let me see! Can I have samples? Jarvis will keep them super secretly hidden while he runs tests, I promise!" The male was almost bouncing with excitement as Harry smiled indulgently and adjusted his t-shirt to get rid of the sweat that had gathered on his chest.

"Yes, of course I-"

"Sir we have a bit of an issue" Interrupted Jarvis, they were almost to Tony's main living floor as the AI chimed in,

"What is it Jarvis?"

"I didn't think it fit to notify the entire building, as I believe the man is friendly, but you have an intruder in your apartments," Tony stood, gape mouthed, as the elevator slid into place on his floor,

Harry half-pushed Tony behind him, reaching for his concealed wand and drawing it into fighting position.

The doors slid open and the pair trekked quietly to the living area, where Harry stopped dead in his tracks upon examining the room.

On the couch, was relaxing a roguish red-head, dressed in tight leather pants, a loose pirate-esque shirt with a leather vest, and a claw earring resting against his attractively braided and tangled fiery hair..

"Miss me Squirt?" the man rumbled in a deep, sensual voice, as Harry gulped and dropped his wand out of shock.

* * *

A/N: So I just recently finished the book The Night Circus (OH MY GOD IT WAS PERFECT, IF YOU HAVEN'T READ IT YET YOU MUUUUST) and I am so considering putting Loki and Harry in the position of Marco and Celia. It would be perfect to have them compete...minus the whole falling in love thing…and the whole dying thing….and the whole dragging everyone down with them thing...

Sorry you guys had to wait so long for a chapter, a short one at that, but writing all of these scholarship essays to pay for my tuition is killing my writing vibe.


End file.
